As Yet Untitled
by James-Potter-Fan
Summary: Harry finds himself in Snape's office again.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the wonderful JK Rowling, who I am in no way associated with.  
  
A/N: This is an untitled work in progess. I decided to post it because I would love some feedback as to whether it's worth continuing.  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
Harry bit down on his lip and promised himself that he wouldn't lose his temper. Not this time. No matter what Snape said. He'd already landed himself four detentions in the past three weeks and didn't think he could stomach another evening washing out Snape's slimy, greasy, nausea-inducing potions bottles (without magic naturally).  
  
He was sitting on the chair next to Snape's desk, in the Potion Master's office. It was a dreary, dark and eerie place, mirroring, Harry thought, the man himself. The only light in the room came from several candles, which were burning in iron brackets on the Dungeon walls. Harry's eyes glanced around the office, which was becoming a familiar place to him of late. Snape had always delighted in humiliating and punishing Harry, but recently he'd become even more unbearable, if such a thing was possible.  
  
"Potter," Snape barked, the moment he opened the door and swept inside, his cloak billowing out behind him, closing the door with a harsh snap. "I tire of having to constantly entertain you in my office. You behaviour has always been unacceptable, but of late, I find..."  
  
Snape's voice faded from Harry's ears, as Harry concentrated on keeping his cool.  
  
'Don't let him get to you,' the voice of reason inside Harry's head was telling him. 'Don't rise to his bait. He's trying to get a rise out of you. Don't give him the satisfaction.'  
  
Of course, Harry knew that he should listen to the voice, but it was so difficult. There was something about Snape's conceited, slimy, condescending, patronising tone of voice that just made Harry want to put his hands around Snape's neck and squeeze. Tightly.  
  
"Are you listening to me, Potter?"  
  
Snape's sudden shout brought Harry back to reality with a start. He looked up at Snape, who was glaring down at him with the upmost loathing in his dark eyes. Harry scowled and tried to keep his voice level and emotionless as he responded.  
  
"Yes. Sir."  
  
Snape laughed derisively, sitting down in the chair behind his desk, and he looked at Harry with an expression of infuriating superiority.  
  
"Don't lie to me, Potter. You're absolutely useless at it."  
  
"Well, unlike you, lying doesn't come as second nature to me," Harry spat back at him, narrowing his eyes.  
  
He shouldn't have said that. It was exactly the opportunity Snape had been waiting for. His face twisted into a menacing smirk.  
  
"Detention. And fifty points from Gryffindor, for your pathetic inability to hold your disobedient tongue."  
  
Harry immediately rose to his feet, an indignant expression on his face.  
  
"That's not fair, I..."  
  
"Care to make it one hundred points?" Snape taunted, leaning back in his chair and straightening the collar of his robes. "And a months worth of detentions?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but then sank back down into his chair with a defeated sigh. The satisfied smirk remained firmly in place on Snape's face, as he put his fingertips together and looked at Harry through narrowed eyes.  
  
"I thought as much. Now, how to make you realise that rules are there to be obeyed, particularly in my classroom. Your behaviour today was inexcusable."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and looked down at the floor, the anger rising in his veins. This was stupid. He'd done nothing wrong – as usual. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had been making snide comments and remarks all lesson from the table behind Harry and Ron. Snape had obviously been able to hear them, but hadn't said a word: but as soon as Harry turned and retaliated, threatening to shove the contents of his swelling solution down Malfoy's throat, Snape had pounced in a flash, grabbing Harry by the collar of his robes and instructing him to wait in his office until the end of the lesson.  
  
Snape paused, waiting to see if Harry was going to protest. He looked slightly disappointed when Harry remained silent.  
  
"Perhaps a month's suspension from the Quidditch team will...."  
  
If there was one punishment that would have provoked a reaction from Harry, it was this. In an instant, Harry was on his feet again, leaning forwards with his hands on Snape's desk, his bright green eyes locked with Snape's soulless black ones.  
  
"How on earth did you ever get to be a Professor!?" he shouted, the voice of reason in his head completely blocked out by the cloud of anger that had descended. "You're pathetic. Just because..."  
  
But once again, Snape cut him off midsentence.  
  
"How dare you?!" he bellowed, rising to his feet and mirroring Harry's stance, placing his hands on the desk in front of him and leaning in towards Harry. A malicious light had flared in the darkness of his eyes and his expression was one of undiluted anger. "You've disrespected me once too often, Potter. Like Father, like Son. Your...."  
  
"Don't you say a word about my Dad!" Harry screamed at the top of his voice, slamming his hands down on the desktop with rage. "You're always criticising him. You're just jealous, because he was more talented and popular that you could ever dream of being! You deserved everything that he did to you. Everything!"  
  
Harry could see the visions from the Pensieve in his mind, as though he were viewing them right now for the first time. His father, James Potter, taunting a teenage Snape, with Sirius and Remus looking on. At first, he'd thought his father's treatment of Snape had been unprovoked and overly harsh, but right now, he was wishing to Merlin that Sirius' infamous trick on Snape had succeeded.  
  
"You're pathetic, you really are. He was fifty times the man you'll ever be. Sirius and Professor Lupin too. You hated them all because they were everything you would never be."  
  
Snape had fallen dangerously silent. There was fatal mix of shock and loathing on his face. But Harry was too angry to stop now.  
  
"I don't know why Professor Dumbledore ever took you on – you're..."  
  
"THAT IS ENOUGH!!!!"  
  
Snape's voice was almost unrecognisable. Quite unlike his usual purr, his voice was now a screaming roar. Harry immediately fell silent, stumbling backwards slightly from the shock of Snape's sudden outburst.  
  
"I will NOT be spoken to in such a disrespectful manner! You will sit down and you will not say another word until I instruct you otherwise! Sit down."  
  
Obeying, Harry sank down into his chair and closed his eyes. What had he done? He should never have let Snape get to him like that – he'd played right into Snape's hands. He was going to be suspended for sure; perhaps even expelled. Bracing himself for Snape's onslaught, Harry opened his eyes and looked up at the Potions master, trying to ignore the way his hands were trembling as they gripped the wooden arms of the chair.  
  
Snape wasn't looking at Harry. His back was turned, so Harry could not read the expression on Snape's face. If Harry had been able to see, he would've seen a face contorted with barely suppressed rage and lurking, almost unnoticeable, just beneath the surface, an intense sadness. A few moments passed when neither teacher nor student spoke, and then Harry cleared his throat, as if to prompt Snape into speech.  
  
"Two months suspension from the Quidditch team," Snape said coldly, still not turning to face Harry. "And fifty points from Gryffindor."  
  
Harry didn't bother to protest. It would only make matters worse.  
  
"Now get out of my office."  
  
Silently pulling himself to his feet and walking towards the door, Harry thought about the reaction he was going to get in the Gryffindor common room when he announced that not only had he managed to lose 50 House Points, but had also earned himself a two month Quidditch ban. That would mean missing at least one of the year's most important matches – the match against Slytherin in three weeks time.  
  
Just as Harry was about to open the door and let himself out, Snape spoke again.  
  
"Oh, and Potter, rest assured I will be speaking to the Headmaster about your inexcusable behaviour and recommending that your future here at Hogwarts be put under serious re-evaluation."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Harry muttered, his voice level and emotionless, as he closed the door behind him.  
  
TBC.... 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters are the property of JK Rowling and associates. I'm just borrowing them for a while.  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
"Why do you let him get to you like that, Harry?"  
  
Harry had just informed Hermione of the events in Snape's office. They were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, eating lunch.  
  
"You should have just..."  
  
"I know what I should have done, Hermione," Harry snapped, an annoyed frown creasing his forehead, as he reached across the table and picked up a bread roll. "But it's a bit late now, isn't it?"  
  
Harry's hands shook as he buttered the bread; anger still seething through him. It was completely unfair the way Snape victimised him. He'd never made a secret of his dislike for Harry, but recently his bullying had reached a new level of ferocity.  
  
Hermione pouted and turned her attention back to the Daily Prophet newspaper, which was lying open on the table infront of her. She was reading an article about a new Magical Amendment, which forbade the sale of Salamander Tongues without a license, due to a recent upsurge in illegal potion sales containing that particular ingredient.  
  
Harry chewed ferociously on his bread roll, before sighing and looking over at Hermione again.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry that I snapped at you, alright?" He shook his hair out of his eyes and removed his glasses, wiping them on the sleeve of his robes. "Snape just makes me so angry. It's completely unfair."  
  
Hermione nodded. "I do understand, Harry. But losing your temper with him won't get you anywhere, apart from in deep trouble. You should try talking to Professor McGonagall or somebody about it; he shouldn't be allowed to punish you for no reason, just because of some old grudge against your Dad."  
  
"Yeah, well," Harry muttered, returning his glasses to his nose and pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "He's just a git, isn't he?"  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Hermione continued to flick through the Daily Prophet, finishing the article on Salamander Tongues and skipping over a large section in the middle of the paper, devoted to Magical Makeup Tips for the Modern Day Witch-On-The-Go.  
  
Harry smiled at Seamus and Neville as they seated themselves opposite and began to pile food onto their plates. Then he looked over at Hermione.  
  
"Where's Ron? Shouldn't he be here, piling food into his mouth with both hands, right about now?"  
  
Hermione didn't crack a smile, although Seamus laughed loudly, displaying the half chewed remains of the chicken leg in his mouth to the entire Gryffindor table.  
  
"That's disgusting," Hermione frowned, shaking her head reprovingly at Seamus, who just winked at her in response, before answering Harry's enquiry about Ron. "He's up in the Owlery, seeing if Pig's come back yet."  
  
Pig was Ron's tiny pet owl – Ron had sent him off with a letter six days ago, and the creature hadn't been seen since.  
  
"Ron's getting rather concerned about him," Hermione continued. "It's been six days now. Do you know he even accused Crookshanks of eating him!" she tutted, rolling her eyes. "It's Scabbers all over again."  
  
Harry glared at Hermione as she mentioned Ron's former pet rat, which had turned out to be a wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew, who had been responsible for betraying Harry's parents to Voldemort. Hermione, realising too late what she had said, clapped a hand to her mouth and smiled bashfully at Harry.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry..I...I didn't think."  
  
Harry looked down at the table and muttered a "Don't worry about it," under his breath.  
  
There was an awkward moment, as Hermione exchanged uncomfortable looks with Neville and Seamus across the table, while Harry stared blankly down at the empty plate infront of him. However, the tension was broken by the arrival of Ron, who collapsed down in the seat next to Hermione and, true to form, immediately began to heap food onto his plate.  
  
"He's not there," Ron reported, devouring a large chunk of Stewed Pumpkin Pie with one mouthful. "Bloody bird. More trouble than he's worth, I'm telling you." But Harry and Hermione could tell that Ron was beginning to get concerned about the owl's mysterious disappearance. "How many detentions did that old slimeball give you this time?" Ron asked Harry, piling another fork high with Stewed Pumpkin Pie and carrots.  
  
"None actually," Harry replied dully, causing Ron, Seamus and Neville to gape at him in surprise. "But I did lose fifty points from Gryffindor," he continued, earning sighs of disappointment from them all. "Fifty points! And I didn't even do anything wrong."  
  
Harry scowled and looked over at the Slytherin table, where he could make out Draco Malfoy talking animatedly to Theodore Nott, a lanky sixth year, who constantly had an illfavoured look. Malfoy was grinning and talking very quickly, but Harry was too far away to hear what he was saying. He turned back to the Gryffindor table and broke the rest of the bad news.  
  
"And he's banned me from Quidditch,"  
  
"What?"  
  
Katie Bell had just sat down next to Seamus. They'd been going out with each other for almost three months now, ever since they'd met up over the summer holidays and Seamus had finally worked up the nerve to tell her that he liked her.  
  
"You've been banned from Quidditch?"  
  
Harry nodded morosely and took another swig of his pumpkin juice. "By Snape. And it was all Malfoy's fault."  
  
He tossed another annoyed glare towards the Slytherin table, before turning back to face Katie.  
  
"Two months."  
  
Katie shook her head and frowned, her pretty face lined with thought.  
  
"I'm going to go and tell Alicia," she said, getting to her feet and giving Seamus a quick pat on the shoulder. "She'll be furious." And then she disappeared back out of the Great Hall, muttering under her breath, "Malfoy, that scheming, jumped up little ferret......"  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks, before they both turned their attention to Harry.  
  
"Two months?" Ron said dully, dropping his fork down onto the table and pushing his plate away from him, even though he'd eaten less than half of his lunch. "But that means...." He counted on his fingers, ticking off the weeks left to go until their match against Slytherin, then he gaped at Harry. "That means you'll miss the match against Slytherin!"  
  
Harry nodded weakly. "I know."  
  
"That's why he's doing it!" Ron said loudly, slamming his fist down on the table, causing Hermione's goblet of Pumpkin juice to wobble dangerously. "Snape. He knows that Slytherin are bound to lose the match, so he's put you out of action."  
  
Hermione shook her head and gave Ron a doubtful look. "I don't know, Ron. I mean, we all know that Snape's terribly biased in favour of Slytherin, but do you really think he'd go to all this trouble just to make sure they win one game of Quidditch? Despite what most people seem to think, Quidditch is not the be all and end all."  
  
She might has well have been speaking Greek, for all the notice anybody took of her. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, clearing saying 'she's mental', almost as though he had spoken the words out loud. Harry surpressed a grin and tried to nod seriously at Hermione, unfortunately without much success. Hermione just sighed and turned her attention back to the Daily Prophet, which was still open on the table infront of her.  
  
"Trust me, Harry, Snape's doing it because he knows you're bound to get to the snitch before Malfoy!" Ron's eyes narrowed as he said Draco's name. His rivalry with Draco Malfoy was almost as bad as Harry's. "After all, all you did was threaten to shove potion down his throat. It's not exactly bad enough to get a two month ban from Quidditch, is it?"  
  
Without taking her eyes off of the newspaper, Hermione interrupted. "No it's not, but screaming at your Professor and calling him pathetic, is."  
  
Ron's eyes widened, and he looked at Harry with an awed expression.  
  
"You yelled at him?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"And did you really call him pathetic?"  
  
Harry nodded again.  
  
"Cool."  
  
Hermione immediately looked up at Ron. "No it's not 'cool, Ron!" she said hotly. "Harry could have been expelled."  
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders and picked up his fork again. "Yeah, I suppose. But he wasn't, was he?"  
  
Hermione pursed her lips, displaying her obvious disapproval of Ron's flippant attitude. "That doesn't make it right."  
  
But Ron wasn't going to be drawn into an argument about it now – not while there was lunch to be eaten. He just sighed loudly and plunged his fork into his Pumpkin Pie. Harry looked down at the empty plate infront of him. He just wasn't hungry. Two months Quidditch ban. Two months! And not only that, but Snape was going to be talking to Dumbledore about him. Harry had failed to include this piece of information to the others. Surely he wouldn't really be expelled though? Snape didn't wield that much influence over Dumbledore, to convince him to expel Harry. Did he?  
  
* 


	3. Chapter Three

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I am in no way associated with JK Rowling et al. I'm just an unhealthily obsessed Harry Potter fanatic.  
  
A/N: Many thanks to everybody who left me reviews for the first two chapters. You guys rock! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint y'all. In reply to a question that was asked by a couple of people, no this isn't going to be a Snape/Harry fic. I've been toying with the idea of a few pairings, but if I'm honest, I've not decided yet.  
  
And as a random piece of information, I thought people might like to know that my favourite HP characters are Snape, Draco and James Potter *shrugs* In case you were wondering.  
  
And finally, apologies for the length of this chapter – I hope you manage to stick with it to the end. There's not much action, but I hope you like it anyways *crosses fingers*  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
The news of Harry's Quidditch ban spread like wildfire through the school, and by dinnertime the following day, the whole student population seemed to have heard. On the whole, only the Hufflepuffs seemed to be genuinely sympathetic to Harry's plight. The Ravenclaws, although generally on good terms with the Gryffindors, couldn't quite conceal their relief that Harry would be out of action for their approaching Quidditch match in seven weeks time. The Slytherins, to nobody's surprise, were openly gleeful at the news. Draco Malfoy shouted across the Great Hall to Harry, the very next morning, at breakfast.  
  
"Potter! Dreadful shame, isn't it? And to think if you'd only been a bit nicer to me in Potions...."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and considered making a dash at Malfoy. He'd probably be able to do a fair amount of damage before anybody could break them apart.....  
  
"Don't even think about it, Harry," Hermione breathed quietly in Harry's ear, as though able to read his mind. "It would only make matters worse."  
  
Personally, Harry didn't see how things could get much worse. Not being able to play Quidditch was going to be torture for him. As an extra precaution, Snape had Harry's invisibility cloak and firebolt confiscated.  
  
Harry didn't know whether Snape had spoken to Dumbledore, as he'd threatened to do, but either way, Harry didn't hear a word from the Headmaster. The whole Gryffindor Quidditch Team had appealed to both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall about Harry's punishment, but Snape just smiled malevolently and refused to budge on the issue, while McGonagall bitterly informed them that she had no authority to overrule Professor Snape on this occasion.  
  
*  
  
Four days after the whole episode, it was time for Potions again. Harry dragged his feet towards the Dungeons, Hermione and Ron trying in vain to cheer him up.  
  
"Come on, Mate," Ron said, using the cheeriest tone of voice he could muster, "It's only another seven and half weeks. Then you'll be back on the team."  
  
But for some reason, this didn't cheer Harry up much. Seven and a half weeks. It might as well be a lifetime.  
  
"Ron's right, Harry. Just try and be positive," Hermione said encouragingly. "It'll be over before you know it."  
  
But Harry doubted that very much. He was thinking about how he was going to survive seven and a half weeks without Quidditch, when the trio rounded a corner and were met by a large crowd of Slytherins. There was a large queue outside of the Dungeon classroom where the Potions lessons were situated. Harry, Ron and Hermione pushed their way through the crowd, towards Seamus Finnegan and Neville Longbottom, who were beckoning them over.  
  
"Hi," Seamus said cheerily, smiling widely, even as he was jostled by the surging crowd of Slytherins. "This is crazy, isn't it?"  
  
Hermione nodded in agreement and looked inquisitively at the door to the classroom, which was closed. She glanced at her watch and then bit down on her lip.  
  
"I wonder where Professor Snape is? He's never usually late for lessons."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Who cares where he is?" he said, a disbelieving tone to his voice. "I know you like lessons and all, Hermione, but don't tell me you're actually worried about missing a few precious minutes of Potions?"  
  
Hermione shot Ron a warning look, before standing up on her tiptoes and looking over the heads of the crowd. "No, but I'm just saying..."  
  
But exactly what she was saying, Ron never found out, because Draco Malfoy chose that moment to elbow Hermione roughly in the back, almost knocking her off her feet and making her gasp with pain. Harry leant closer to check that Hermione was alright, while Ron whirled around to face Draco, who had that trademark smirk of his firmly fixed into place.  
  
"What the Hell did you do that for, Malfoy?" he demanded, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring at Draco. If looks could kill, Draco would have been dead and buried. A vicious light was gleaming from Ron's eyes, which were narrowed slightly. He was a good three inches taller than Draco, but the Slytherin didn't appear at all phased by this.  
  
Draco merely raised his eyebrows slightly and responded in a lazy drawl. "Do what, exactly, Weasel?"  
  
"You know bloody well what!" Ron spat, as if the words had a foul taste.  
  
But Draco continued to smirk, not even slightly intimidated by Ron. Crabbe and Goyle were standing close behind Draco, as usual, and were chuckling quietly. Ron shot them an angry glare and they fell silent.  
  
Hermione, who had caught her breath again, straightened up and put a hand on Ron's shoulder.  
  
"Don't, Ron. He's not worth it. He's only trying to cause trouble, as usual."  
  
She didn't look at Malfoy as she spoke, she kept her eyes fixed on Ron.  
  
"No, Hermione," Ron said angrily, "I've had enough of his bullying." He turned back to Draco, who had turned away and was talking quietly to Crabbe and Goyle. Ron grabbed Draco's shoulder and pulled him around to face him. "Did you hear me? I've had enough of you."  
  
But to Ron's annoyance, Draco didn't display any signs of fear, aggravation or annoyance. In fact, he didn't react at all. He just raised his eyebrows and acted as though Ron had just asked him to pass the Pumpkin juice.  
  
"And I'm supposed to care what you think, am I?" he asked. He jerked his shoulder backwards and out of Ron's grip. "Don't you ever touch me again."  
  
Ron was about to grab Malfoy by the throat and throttle him, when approaching footsteps caused the group of students to fall silent and still. A few seconds later, Professor Snape rounded the corner and gave them all a detestable look. He barged through the crowd and unlocked the door.  
  
"Inside, everybody. Silence. Quickly. Quickly."  
  
The students began to file silently inside. Snape nodded at a few of the Slytherin students as they passed, and scowled at most of the Gryffindors.  
  
"Good afternoon, Professor."  
  
"Afternoon, Mr Malfoy."  
  
"Good afternoon, Professor."  
  
"Silence, Finnegan."  
  
"Bloody favouritism."  
  
"Do I have to tell you again?"  
  
"No, Sir."  
  
Once all the students were inside, Snape slammed the door shut and strode to the front of the class. He turned to face the class, crossing his arms.  
  
"Parchment and quills away – today I shall be testing you on the Carlitus Draft."  
  
A murmur ran through the room as the students turned to each other – they'd only studied the Cariltus Draft briefly in their last lesson. Snape shot Hermione a withering look as her hand shot into the air.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"But, Sir, we haven't learned the proper procedure for.."  
  
"It is not my fault, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, turning his back to Hermione and waving his wand at the blackboard, where a list of ingredients began to appear in spidery writing, "if you have not mastered the procedure. You were given adequate instructions in your previous lesson. May I suggest paying more attention in my classes in the future."  
  
Hermione's hand fell to her side and she exchanged irritated looks with Harry. Draco Malfoy sniggered loudly at the desk behind them.  
  
"All of the ingredients you require are here at the front of the class – "  
  
Snape waved vaguely to a large box that was sitting on top of his desk.  
  
"– and you will have thirty minutes to prepare the Draft, after which I will test each and every Potion. You will work in pairs."  
  
Snape then turned back to face the class and pointed at various students, pairing them off.  
  
"Granger and Weasley."  
  
"Crabbe and Parkinson."  
  
"Malfoy and Potter."  
  
Harry's eyes widened with horror. He had to work with Draco Malfoy? He looked at Ron and Hermione, a distressed expression creasing his face. They both smiled sympathetically at him, as Snape continued to pair off students.  
  
"Look at it this way, mate," Ron murmured, "At least you'll get a decent grade. Snape's not going to fail his little angel Malfoy, is he? Now, me and Hermione on the other hand..."  
  
With a sigh, Harry turned to face Draco, who was sitting perfectly still and smirking at Harry. "Go and get the ingredients then, Potter."  
  
"What did your last servant die of, Malfoy?" Harry shot back, narrowing his eyes. He couldn't believe that Snape had paired him with Malfoy after what had happened in the previous lesson. But then again, perhaps that was Snape's motive for pairing them together – if Harry and Draco had another disagreement, it would give Snape another reason to remove even more points from Gryffindor.  
  
"Of disobedience," Draco said, not batting an eyelid, "So you'd better get a move on."  
  
"Get them yourself," Harry muttered. He wasn't going to allow Draco to push him around.  
  
"Now, now, Potter, we're supposed to be working as a team. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be wonderful team players. I distinctly remember that revolting hat saying so," Draco said in a bored tone of voice, referring to the sorting hat's most recent song. He twirled his Eagle feather quill between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"I'm not your servant, Malfoy," Harry growled. "So I'm not going to...."  
  
"Problems, Draco?"  
  
Snape's silky voice made Harry leave his sentence unfinished. He and Draco both looked up at Professor Snape, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking down at them. Draco sighed.  
  
"Yes, Sir. Potter refuses to cooperate with me and he was just saying that only an incompetent idiot would pair us together."  
  
The lie dripped from Draco's tongue as naturally as had it been the truth.  
  
"Is that so?" Snape replied, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who was looking open mouthed at Draco.  
  
"I did not!" he objected, looking desperately at Snape. "Malfoy is...."  
  
But Professor Snape held up his hand and interrupted Harry.  
  
"Silence, Potter. I do not care to listen to your petty disagreements with Mr Malfoy. Go and get the ingredients from my desk. Now, Potter."  
  
"But...."  
  
"I will not tell you again."  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes and gave an annoyed grunt, before turning and marching to Snape's desk at the front of the classroom. When he returned, his arms full of eel eyes, newt livers and other equally repulsive ingredients, Snape was no longer there. Draco had his elbows on the desk, resting his chin in his hands.  
  
"You're pathetic, you know that?" Harry muttered, as he dropped the ingredients down onto the desk.  
  
"Sticks and stones, Potter," Draco smirked, before starting to look through the ingredients. "Newt liver – we'll need four slices. Leech Juice – just a dash... We won't need the Elderflower Roots until the very end..."  
  
Harry sat down on his chair, on the opposite side of the desk to Malfoy, and watched Draco, his eyes widening slightly. Draco actually seemed to know what he was doing. He continued to search through the ingredients, muttering quietly to himself as he set certain things apart from the rest. After a moment or two, he looked up at Harry and frowned.  
  
"What?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Nothing. You know how to make it then?"  
  
"Of course I do," Draco shot back, a disgruntled expression creasing his face. "Contrary to popular belief, I do actually pay attention in class, you know."  
  
Harry gave a snort of disbelief and then fell silent. His eyes drifted around the dungeon classroom. At the desk behind Draco, Pansy Parkinson was whispering to Crabbe, who kept glancing in Harry's direction. Seamus had been paired with Blaise Zabini, and they both looked equally unhappy about the arrangement. Lavender Brown was sitting next to Neville, who was looking nervously over his shoulder at Professor Snape.  
  
"Are you planning on doing anything at all to contribute?" Draco's droll voice shook Harry out of his thoughts.  
  
Harry mumbled a half hearted apology, to which Draco responded with an evil glare. He pushed the pile of Elderflower Roots towards Harry.  
  
"Chop these," he commanded, before turning his attention back to his cauldron, which was about a quarter full of bubbling orange liquid. "And make sure they're in equal, even pieces."  
  
"I know how to chop Dandelion Roots," Harry said, scowling at Draco across the table.  
  
"That's nice to know, Potter," Draco smirked, adding a dash of Leech Juice to the potion, "but that won't help much, considering those are Elderflower Roots."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Harry felt his cheeks flush and he looked away from Draco, focusing his attention on the Roots infront of him. Why couldn't he have been paired with Ron or Hermione or Seamus? Why did he have to work with the boy he despised more than anybody else in the school?  
  
Professor Snape continued to patrol the room, stopping at various desks and either nodding (if it was a pair of Slytherin students) or scowling (if the students were Gryffindors). Harry glanced up as Snape stopped at the cauldron Lavender Brown was sharing with Neville. Neville was so intimidated by Professor Snape, that he accidentally knocked over a large cup of leech juice, which splashed up the front of Lavender's robes, causing her to squeal and jump to her feet.  
  
"Ten minutes left," Snape's voice announced. "Your potion should almost been complete, as it needs exactly six minutes to simmer before use."  
  
Harry finished chopping the roots and pushed them across the desk towards Malfoy.  
  
"Put them in then," Draco barked, tossing Harry an annoyed frown. "Or do you expect me to do everything?"  
  
"Go to Hell, Malfoy," Harry muttered as he dropped the roots into the boiling potion. The sooner the class was over, the better. He looked over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione. Hermione was muttering hurried instructions to Ron, who looked more than a little harassed.  
  
"Terrible shame about you getting banned from Quidditch, Potter."  
  
Harry spun back around to face Draco. He was leaning back in his seat, once again twirling his quill between his fingers; a malicious smile was playing around his lips.  
  
"I suppose that irritating Weasel brat will be standing in for you again?"  
  
"Like it's any of your business!" Harry shot back, leaning his elbows on the desk and glaring at Draco with a look of intense dislike. "You're just jealous because Ginny is ten times better than you'll ever be."  
  
Draco scoffed and raised his eyebrows. "That Weasel brat, better than me? In her dreams, Potter."  
  
"Silence!"  
  
The classroom fell into a hushed silence at once and all eyes turned to Professor Snape, who was standing at the front of the class, his face stern and emotionless.  
  
"Your potions should all be complete by this time – Miss Patil, step away from your cauldron. I shall now test each and every one of them, although I have grave misgivings about going anywhere near the contents of Mr Longbottom's cauldron."  
  
Everybody craned their necks to look at Neville, who bit down on his lip and looked at the floor. Harry felt an violent rush of pity rise in him and he tried to catch Neville's eye to give him an encouraging smile.  
  
"First – Weasley and Granger..."  
  
TBC..... 


	4. Chapter Four

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All characters belong to JK Rowling – I'm just borrowing them for awhile.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
Three weeks passed with little event. The Gryffindor vs Slytherin match came and went, with Slytherin securing a triumphant victory. Harry didn't bother to go to the match - he was still too bitter about not being able to play. Hermione went with Seamus, only to trudge back into the common room a couple of hours later with a disappointed frown on her face.  
  
"410 - 90," she told Harry, as she slumped down onto the sofa next to him.  
  
Harry had his astronomy homework open on his lap and he gratefully pushed it aside when Hermione arrived. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't muster any excitement about Venus being in the Third House of Jupiter.  
  
"The smug look on Malfoy's face when he paraded around the stadium waving the snitch, was almost enough to make me hit him!" Hermione frowned and rubbed her eyes.  
  
Harry couldn't suppress a smile, recalling the incident in their third year when Hermione had slapped Draco hard around the face, because he'd been making fun of Hagrid.  
  
"You should've done," he grinned. "The foul little git deserves it."  
  
Hermione managed a half hearted smile, before looking down at the homework Harry had just pushed to one side.  
  
"Haven't you finished that already? I did mine about three days ago. I spoke to Professor Sinistra about some extra texts that are in the library – they really helped me to...."  
  
But she broke off and smiled bashfully, when Harry merely shook his head and grinned at her.  
  
"But I'm sure yours is really good as well," she added, looking at Harry's essay out of the corner of her eye. Harry could tell that she was positively itching to read it and correct any mistakes that Harry might have made and make suggestions about how it might be improved. "I'm not suggesting that you need any help with it or anything."  
  
"Hermione, if you want to read it, just ask, okay?" Harry smiled and stretched his arms out infront of him. "I'm sure you'll find something to correct me on."  
  
Hermione's cheeks flushed a little and she crossed her legs, smoothing her skirt out a little.  
  
"No, like I said, I'm sure it's really good."  
  
"It's awful," Harry replied, collecting the sheets of parchment together and dropping them down onto the floor. "I can't concentrate. It's this whole Quidditch thing. I hate not being able to play."  
  
Hermione nodded sympathetically and tilted her head to one side.  
  
"Perhaps you should try speaking to Professor Snape again. He'll be in a relatively good mood, considering Slytherin have won the match. Besides, he's been a bit better lately, hasn't he?"  
  
Hermione was right. Since the events in his office three and a half weeks ago, Snape had left Harry alone for the most part. He still took great pleasure in removing points from Gryffindor whenever Harry so much as looked at him disrespectfully, but he didn't appear to be going out of his way to make Harry's life miserable.  
  
Harry nodded. "I suppose so."  
  
Hermione smiled encouragingly. "And he did give you top marks for the Carlitus Draft experiment."  
  
Harry gave a snort of bitter laugh. "Only because I was working with Malfoy. He couldn't fail me without failing Malfoy, and lets face it, that's never going to happen. Everybody knows that Snape sucks up to Malfoy like a....a...." Harry strugged to find the right word. "Like one of those sucking plant things that Professor Sprout was talking about last week."  
  
"Ressira," Hermione informed him, a small smile on her lips.  
  
"Yeah, like a Ressira," Harry said glumly, screwing up his nose. "Although, as much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy did deserve top marks. He did seem to know what he was doing."  
  
"So did I, but Snape didn't give Ron and I full marks," she grumbled. "Anyway, that's beside the point. I'm just suggesting that you try speaking to him again. You never know...."  
  
Harry gave a small nod. "Maybe. I'll think about it." But as much as he wanted to be back on the Quidditch team, he wasn't going to beg Snape – he refused to give him the satisfaction. He could just picture the sickening smirk on Snape's pallid face. No. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.  
  
Just then, the sound of approaching voices echoed in from the corridor outside. It sounded like the students were coming back from the Quidditch match. Harry didn't really feel like being badgered with complaints about him not being able to play, so he quickly jumped to his feet.  
  
"I'm going to go and lie down," he told Hermione, gathering up his school things from the floor. "Tell Ron I'm sorry we lost."  
  
Hermione nodded miserably and watched Harry disappear up the spiral staircase towards the boys dormitories.  
  
*  
  
The pain in Harry's forehead was so intense that he thought his head was going to split in two. The circle of gathered Death Eaters all laughed as he let out another piercing scream of agony. Voldemort kept the curse on him for even longer this time, before lowering his wand and smiling devilishly with that cruel mouth of his.  
  
"Ready to speak now, Harry Potter?" he taunted, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Or do you want more?"  
  
Harry was gasping for breath as he curled up into a ball, bringing his knees close to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to block out their laughter, which was ringing in his ears. His whole body ached with a pain he'd never felt before.  
  
"Answer!" Voldemort commanded, kicking Harry forcefully in the stomach. "Tell me the identity of Dumbledore's secret keeper."  
  
Harry tried to blink the blood out of his eyes as he looked up. Through the holes in their masks, he could see the eyes of the Death Eaters. They were cold and merciless. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came forth. His lungs burnt with a pain that he never knew was possible.  
  
Voldemort laughed again, the sound chilling Harry's blood. It was the same high, cold laugh that he heard when he remembered his parents' murder. Harry looked helplessly over at Ron, whose beaten and broken body was lying motionless a few feet away. He reached out his hand towards him, his fingertips outstretched, but Ron was out of reach. One of the Death Eaters, Harry wasn't sure which, stamped heavily down on his arm and Harry felt the bones break with a sickening crack.  
  
"Speak!" Voldemort screeched again, his followers cheering loudly as he pointed his wand at Harry for a third time. "Crucio!"  
  
Harry's whole body jerked upwards from the ground, crippling pains searing through his spine. His scream tore through the night.  
  
Then, with a loud gasp, he sat bolt upright in bed, his hand flying to his scar. His breathing was shallow and fast. The blood pounded against his skull as he brought his hands to his face, removed his glasses and pushed his palms against his eyes, trying to block out the terrifying images that still flitted across his mind. Ron, pale and cold, lying dead on the floor next to him – the Death Eaters in their horrific masks – Voldemort's twisted smile and bone chilling laugh.  
  
Harry hadn't meant to fall asleep. He glanced at the small clock on his bedside cabinet – the Chudley Canons one that Ron had bought him for his birthday. It was half past one. Why hadn't anybody woken him up for lunch? His breathing had returned to normal now, although his heart was still pounding faster than usual and his hair was sticking to his forehead with cold sweat. The dream had been so real. He tried to tell himself that it was just a dream, but he couldn't shake off the worry that perhaps it wasn't a normal dream at all – perhaps it was some sort of vision. He'd had things like that before, so who was to say that this 'dream' of his wasn't actually a warning of some kind?  
  
The low murmur of voices drifted up from the common room. Harry swung his feet onto the dormitory floor and ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face, which unbeknownst to him, was rather paler than usual.  
  
Should he tell anybody about his dream? Was he just overreacting? He sighed and laid back. He didn't know what to do.  
  
TBC.... 


	5. Chapter Five

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way associated with JK Rowling. All characters contained in this work of fiction belong solely to her. That's why she's a world famous author and I'm not.  
  
A/N: I really hope you continue to enjoy this story. Thanks again for the reviews and support I have been given.  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Harry hadn't realised his eyes were closed until Ron elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he jerked them open again. Professor Binns had been droning on about the long reaching consequences of the Wizards Conference of 1633 for about forty minutes, and Harry, like the rest of the class, had long since lost interest.  
  
"Are you alright?" Ron asked quietly, as Binns continued in his monotone voice.  
  
"Yeah," Harry lied, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his head against his palm.  
  
It was their first lesson of the week. Harry hadn't mentioned his dream to Ron or Hermione yet. He had gone down to the common room with every intention of telling them, but he'd been distracted by Ron's grumbling about the backhand tactics of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Then this morning at breakfast – he had planned to tell them then, but the gloating smirks of everybody at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy especially, had sidetracked him.  
  
'At lunch' Harry told himself, as he tried his hardest to concentrate on what Professor Binns was saying. 'I'll talk to them at lunch.'  
  
But just then, a knock at the classroom door interrupted Harry's musings.  
  
Dennis Creevy appeared in the doorway and called excitedly to Professor Binns.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt, but Professor Dumbledore wants to see Harry in his office, Sir."  
  
All eyes in the classroom turned to look at Harry, who in turn looked quizzically at Dennis, who just grinned happily.  
  
Professor Binns waved his hand towards Harry, who assumed it meant he had permission to leave. He muttered a quiet goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and then followed Dennis from the room.  
  
"Hi, Harry," Dennis said, the moment the door swung shut behind them. "I couldn't believe it when I was asked to come and find you. I haven't seen you around for ages. You weren't in the common room much over the weekend. Dreadful shame about us losing at Quidditch, wasn't it? But I suppose without you, they didn't stand much of a chance."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and wished that Dumbledore had sent a different messenger to find him.  
  
"Everybody's saying about how unfair it was for Professor Snape to ban you from the team – I agree. The only...."  
  
"Sorry, Dennis," Harry interrupted, working to keep his voice level, when he really felt like grabbing Dennis by the shoulders and shaking him until his tongue fell out so he couldn't talk anymore. "But do you know why Dumbledore wants to see me?"  
  
"Haven't got a clue," Dennis replied brightly as they continued to walk. "Maybe he's going to put you back on the Quidditch team!"  
  
Harry managed a small laugh before falling silent. He seriously doubted that was the reason Dumbledore wanted to talk to him. His stomach gave a violent lurch as he remembered Snape's promise to talk to Dumbledore about him. Perhaps he'd kept his promise.  
  
"Well, here we are."  
  
Dennis' cheery voice brought Harry out of his thoughts and he was surprised to see that they had reached the stone gargoyle which blocked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He looked down at Dennis and forced a friendly smile.  
  
"Thank you, Dennis."  
  
Dennis grinned and then turned to face the gargoyle.  
  
"Sugar Quill."  
  
The gargoyle jumped to one side as Dennis spoke the password. Dennis positively beamed at Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said that he knew he could trust me with the password. Although I should imagine he'll change it soon enough."  
  
Harry nodded and then climbed onto the bottom step of the staircase which had just been revealed. Dennis gave him a friendly wave as the staircase began to revolve slowly, lifting Harry out of sight.  
  
*  
  
With a heavy heart, Harry knocked loudly on the door and then opened it cautiously. Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly and beckoned Harry inside.  
  
"Please, sit down, Harry," he said. He was seated behind his desk, which was overflowing with pieces of parchment. "I must apologise for the disorderly state of my affairs."  
  
Harry smiled nervously as he sat down, Dumbledore waving vaguely at the clutter on his desk.  
  
"What did you want to see me about, Professor?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore's eyes wrinkled behind his half-moon spectacles as he smiled at Harry. He didn't reply; he just placed his fingertips together and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was looking down at the floor, unable to look at Dumbledore. What had Snape said to him?  
  
"I understand you have been removed from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded, still not looking at Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor Snape informs me that this is because of your behaviour in his classes."  
  
This made Harry look at him.  
  
"It's not fair," he complained, leaning forward and resting his hands on Dumbledore's desk. "I'd done nothing wrong. Malfoy was...."  
  
But Dumbledore held up his hand and Harry fell into silence.  
  
"Your feud with Mr Malfoy is, I trust, still ongoing?"  
  
Harry gave an exasperated sigh.  
  
"You know what his family's like, Professor! He's always trying to get me into trouble and Snape..I mean Professor Snape lets him get away with everything. I know I sometimes lose my temper with him when I shouldn't, but I can't help it. He just makes me so angry. He says things about my Father. Horrible things."  
  
Harry put his hands into his lap and twisted his fingers together.  
  
"And things about Sirius."  
  
Professor Dumbledore nodded and fell into thoughtful silence.  
  
"He said he was going to ask you to expel me," Harry added, his voice quiet and downbeat. He looked up at Dumbledore, blinking nervously behind his glasses.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore replied slowly, "He has spoken to me about the matter." He looked across the desk at Harry and gave him a warm, encouraging smile. "But of course I have no intentions of doing any such thing."  
  
This was exactly what Harry had wanted to hear. He smiled widely at Dumbledore, who picked up a small pot on his desk and offered Harry a sherbert lemon, which Harry accepted gratefully. Dumbledore looked intently at Harry for a few moments, before speaking again.  
  
"You must understand that Professor Snape will probably never forget his grudge against your Father. I have spoken to him about not letting it affect his treatment of you but I'm afraid Severus doesn't always follow my advice."  
  
Harry didn't think any response was required of him, so he sucked silently on his sherbert lemon and watched Dumbledore.  
  
"However – you must remember that Professor Snape is your teacher and therefore deserving of your respect." Dumbledore's expression was serious and Harry bit down on his lip as he listened. "I know that you will not let me down, Harry."  
  
Harry took a heavy breath and looked down in his lap. In other words, Professor Dumbledore was asking him to ignore all of Snape's bullying and not retaliate. That was so unfair and for a brief moment, Harry despised Dumbledore for even asking, but then he sighed and gave a quick nod of his head. He didn't want to let the headmaster down. Dumbledore beamed at him, his eyes wrinkled with pleasure.  
  
"Thank you. Now, is there anything else you would like to talk to me about?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Then you may go." Dumbledore looked up at the large golden clock on the wall and then turned back to Harry with a smile. "There doesn't seem much point in you returning your class now. Why don't you have a breather before your next lesson, which is, unless I'm mistaken, transfiguration?"  
  
Harry nodded and stood up, glancing at Dumbledore. Suddenly, he remembered his dream last night. He opened his mouth but then froze. Was it really worth bothering Dumbledore over a dream? Because surely that's all it was. Just a dream. Nothing to worry about.  
  
"Yes, Professor," Harry said and then he left the office, closing the door quietly behind him. Dumbledore watched him leave and then closed his eyes thoughtfully. There was something Harry had wanted to say – he could tell – but then he'd changed his mind at the last minute. He wondered what was on the boys mind....  
  
TBC..... 


End file.
